


Tabs

by BumbleBooty



Series: Discord Inspired [12]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fuck-A-Thon, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Size Difference, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tactile Sexual Interfacing, cumflation, sex as payment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-11 15:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15318126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBooty/pseuds/BumbleBooty
Summary: Once a month, bar tabs need to be paid!





	Tabs

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck you Swerve for giving me ideas.

Swerve was E X C I T E D.

Why? Very simple- it was Bar Tab Payday.

His plating had been washed and waxed to perfection, his polish was shined to a mirror finish, and his valve had been stretched- with the help of Skids, of course. 

He was loose, he was limber, and he was _R E A D Y._

He hummed happily as he made his way to his bar, flipping through his notepad and grinning at the list of customers he had _better_ see at some point today if they didn't want to shell out the Shainx to cover the drinks they had tabbed up over the last lunar cycle. 

_Tailgate- 50 Shainx- 2_

_Drift- 75 Shainx- 3_

_Ratchet-50 Shainx- 2_

_Rodimus- 100 Shainx- 4_

_Whirl- 150 Shainx- 6_

When he walked through the unlocked doors of his bar- thank you Skids! - Tailgate was first in his line of sight. The mini was in the center-ish seat, happily kicking his pedes as he chattered to Mirage. Cyclonus was silent beside him, looking rather bored as Mirage made the former con his usual. Grinning from ear to ear, Swerve took his similarly-sized friend by the servo. A brief pause and matching grins- one obscured by a mask- had Cyclonus raising a brow, but within a few seconds, the two were giggling as they went to the back. Overdramatic sighs and snickering were the only real grief they gave Cyclonus for not joining in.

Oh well, it was always fun to start with a mech his size- _And_  it was one of his best friends? _Definitely_ going to be a good day!

Tailgate's tab was Fifty Shainx- so that was two overloads. 

Tailgate was nothing but excited giggles as he released the clasp on his mask, stealing a kiss from his fellow mini before they clambered onto the berth. It quickly restarted once they were settled, and Swerve could _tell_ he and Cyclonus had been practicing. The bartender grinned as they separated, tapping the other minibot on the nose. “So, anything you're wanting to do in particular?"  Those big eyes shimmered with excitement. "Well... There is  _something_ I've been working on."

His valve and Spike got a lovely oral warmup.

Tailgate left him with a pleasant tingle in his circuits, and he didn't even bother moving from the berth when the pleased bot patted his thigh and slipped out the door. The others knew what to do. 

* * *

 

Ratchet waltzed in less than five kilks later, his spike immediately deploying into his servo.  

Ratchet was always affectionate when paying his tabs- even if he  _was_ a bit vanilla with his positions- but by the end, Swerve's valve wished Ratchet racked up more than two on his bill. He was left sated and purring, curled up until someone else would arrive to begin the process again.

* * *

 

Whirl came less than ten kilks later and Swerve nearly bit through his lip with excitement. He always got to use his legs with Whirl, bouncing on his spike until he was half gelatinous and drooling on his pillow. His final overload from the Heli was given with his face pressed into a pillow, his pedes curling with pleasure just before his frame going limp with sudden unconsciousness. He wouldn't know about the heart scratched into his aft until Skids helped him clean up later that night.

* * *

 

Drift and Rodimus came as a pair, later in the evening. The metallurgist was easily awakened by the sound of the door, and he wiggled his pedes happily under the scrutiny of mischievous grins. Those eight overloads came over the course of three joor- on his knees, onto a greedy glossa, on each spike individually, and on them as a pair. 

Strutless and exhausted, he was laid back onto his pillows by Drift as Rodimus grabbed some rags. He was cleaned off with a gentleness that only came when Rodimus was just as tired as Swerve felt. Seventeen overloads in one day had the minibot exhausted, but it was only a few more than he and Skids exchanged on a really good day. The most surprising part of the evening was that everyone _actually_ showed up. _Usually_ he had one (a particular copter or a certain samurai) somehow find the Shainx last minute and pay if they weren't up for the physicality of their tab. 

Which is _probably_ the reason he was so surprised when the door creaked open once more. 

Now, Swerve was a detailed record keeper, believe it or not.

So, he was naturally confused when Ultra Magnus- who had exactly _one_ drink this month... albeit one that was rather unexpected, as the news of Tailgate and Cyclonus' formal courtship prompted everyone to take a celebratory drink, but had paid for it once he had gone to his office to get his credits -held his usual composure and closed the door politely behind him. 

Swerve pushed himself to his palms, giving the mech a confused look. "Wassup Mags?"

Swerve was tempted to take an image capture of the adorable look of pure nervousness that crossed the larger mech's faceplate.

"I believe I had a tab this month." Swerve grinned at the awkward throat clearing but chose not to comment on it.

"Mags, you paid that already, and it was barely open for five Kilks. You don't ow-" His voice nervously cut out as the mech approached the side of his berth in two long strides, bending down to gently press a chaste kiss to swollen lip plates. 

"As a Magnus, I hold my honor to a high regard. I wish to pay my tab with your usual form of... _payment_." 

Swerve just broke into giggles when those larger lips slid to kiss his throat. "I don't think-... well, I mean..." Swerve caught the look of embarrassment once more, and couldn't help but feel his cheeks burn. "I guess if you _insist_..."

By every Prime there is or was, Magnus was a _great_ kisser. Swerve couldn't find a single atom of his frame willing to complain when the berth dipped, causing a dip low enough to shift Swerve's balance. 

The mech effortlessly lifted the minibot into his lap, leaning back against the wall. Swerve melted into the larger mech, standing on his knees- which were barely able to brace on each side of Ultra Magnus' thighs- to stroke his fingers along the antennae on each side of his helm.  

Magnus' servos nearly swallowed Swerve's waist, and the mini couldn't help the quiet, hungry noise he made into the kiss when he was pulled tightly against the massive chest. 

It was so easy to get lost in the kiss, and Magnus allowed the barest of grins when Swerve jumped slightly when servos dipped into his valve. The soft gasp was effortlessly swallowed, but the moans were allowed to slip free when lips trailed to kiss along smaller throat cables. Swerve allowed his helm to fall back as his servos gripped shoulder plating, his hips already rolling onto the singular digit. 

The pointer digit alone was as good as a smaller spike, but Swerve keened as its brother gently coaxed its way inside. The overload took him by surprise, crying into the air as his entire body rolled with the force of the pleasure that crackled through his systems. He shivered against Ultra Magnus' shoulders, unable to speak as the third continued the stretch. 

Swerve opened his mouth to tell Magnus that his tab was technically repaid, but was instead met with a hungry kiss and an utterly massive spike pressurizing against his stomach. Swerve bit his lip, leaning back to glance into the larger mech's optics. 

The intensity of the look nearly melted his paint off and Swerve immediately broke into nervous giggles. "I- primus that’s- o-oh my." Ultra Magnus grinned once more- just a slight twitch of one side of his lips- before he coaxed Swerve onto his back.  Well, more like outright laid him down like an oversized doll, but hey. No complaints here!

Especially not with lips and glossa making their way down his frame, heating Swerve's faceplate right up until those lips pressed against his... _other_ lips. 

If that lovely servo hadn't been holding his hips down, Swerve might have jumped clear to Luna-1. Instead, a glossa pushed between his servos, tasting and sampling everything the squealing mini had to offer. Swerve just clung to the pillow, trying his best to not overload prematurely onto the curious, slick, wonderfully talented, and  _oh so warm-_

Well, a mech can't be good at everything. 

Ultra Magnus didn't seem to mind, judging from how he pressed his face closer to attempt to lick his ceiling node.

By the time it ended, Swerve was a keening mess all over again, pressing his faceplate into a pillow to try to hide the fact he was running so hot that his coolant was beginning to evaporate. Ultra Magnus just stroked along the edge of his visor, distracting him from the massive head of his spike with a slow kiss. 

His valve burned like his faceplate, but it wasn't in the realm of unmanageable pain. The numerous overloads left him stretched and loose to a normal mech, but he still fit painfully snug over the monster that slowly pushed within him. Swerve raised his helm to watch the slow gulp his valve was taking, but keened when he saw his stomach plating beginning to distend and buckle from the mass displacement going on beneath it. 

Small, chubby servos pressed to his own faceplate, and the giggles returned with a vengeance to fight against the moans and keening whimpers for space on his glossa. When Magnus' spike pressed against his ceiling node, Swerve's back instinctually arched with yet another minor overload. 

When his senses returned, he realized the ceiling was bobbing slightly- or, rather, his frame was bobbing with the gentle force of Ultra Magnus' thrusts. 

Lips claimed his own once more, and Swerve tried his best to kiss back like a normal mech instead of drooling all over himself and eventually breaking it off to gasp desperately against his pillow. 

With heavy breaths washing over the left side of his faceplate and an oversensitive valve taking the biggest spike it ever had, Swerve didn't stand a chance. His final overload of the night drug Ultra Magnus over the edge with him, and the mini's faceplate burned as the sight of his stomach rapidly swelling with trapped transfluid knocked him into unconsciousness. 

Like hell if he was ever taking a single Shainx from Ultra Magnus again. That mech was tabbed for _life_.


End file.
